


Winsome

by dai



Category: Cal Leandros - Rob Thurman
Genre: Mythical Beings & Creatures, POV First Person, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Yuletide 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dai/pseuds/dai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two brothers, one covert mission. A job is never complete without a puck in tow, and Robin's own misfortune is surprisingly rewarded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winsome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonlight69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlight69/gifts).



"Ishiah and I were in a situation like this once. Without the rocks, of course. In fact, I don't think we were underground at all. Just a lot of water and a lot of--"

"Finish that sentence, Goodfellow, and I'll give Cal permission to shoot you."

No imagination whatsoever, the companions at my side. Friends. I found it amusing to think of them as such considering the number of pants and shirts they owed me in the throes of their, ah, conquests. Finely woven, hand-tailored. I equally mourned the loss of my shoes the moment I stepped down into a hole that submerged half of my leg with some dark, murky substance that didn’t resemble water in the least; that was _not_ coming out. What was the saying? One without the other, so on and so forth? At least they hadn't been the _most_ expensive pair.

Caliban, too, was having the time of his life behind us, Niko's stealth and my own amazing silence ruined by his cursing and fumbling when he slipped on a particularly wet rock. To say the least, it was a very special moment for all of us. Not for the first time, I wondered how Niko dealt with it, though the truth wasn't a far stretch of the imagination.

Even for someone like me, excellent observation skills aside, it was obvious just how much love they had for one another.

"Is it just me, or does everything that comes out of your mouth always sound like utter crap?"

"Your jealousy is showing, Caliban."

A simple retort, and it was so easy to get under his skin. Too easy.

The amusement, however, disappeared just as quickly with the immediate knowledge of our present and current predicament. I had been blackmailed into some deep chasm below an aquarium I'd intentionally forgotten the name of the moment Niko had spoken it. An adventure under the sea. Or, as Caliban would have it, mermaids on steroids. Perhaps it wasn't too far from the truth, but the creatures we hunted were far from pretty. Sirens. Impossible to mistake them for the lovely ladies of the ocean cliffs when face to face. Their demeanor was pleasant enough...from a distance. The scaly, distended shape of their bodies could make the best of men lose it, myself excluded from those multitudes of weak-willed seamen. Legends only tended to get some of the actual facts right, and in this case, it was the persuasive melody of a siren's voice. Sing a song, lure a potential lover to their death. If only I had considered it first--but I preferred mine very much alive and conscious, if a little imbibed. It usually made the evening exceptionally memorable. Even so, those escapades seemed a lifetime ago.

Monogamy...

Me. The puck of infamy. An inspiration to Elagabalus through his identity crisis and the center of debauchery an empire built themselves around to worship. I had been shackled to a grumpy pillar of feathers whose attitude didn't waver much at the thought of anything...fun. In fact, I’d made it a point not to call him and let him know just how _much_ of it I was having miles underground in a dank and dim, most likely infested, hole. Despite that, it wasn't without its benefits.

Had I mentioned the wings?

"I swear to god, Nik, one more word out of his mouth..."

I turned to level my eyes at the younger Leandros, scorning him like the pup he mimicked with that atrocious hair of his. Once, months before, it had been unknowingly stylish, but the thing was beginning to make a gruesome comeback. I pitied him with what little I had to give, shaking my head and choosing to walk beyond that of Niko’s outstretched arm rather than give details. As much as I liked narrating my countless exploits and sexual prowess, certain things were mine to keep in case of emergency. Boredom, late nights or early mornings. I didn't discriminate; the life of a puck was something to be glorified and written about. Which it had been, quite often, and by my own hand a time or two. Still, the distraction would have cost me my other shoe had a hand not grabbed the back of my shirt.

Caliban had decided to join the adults.

"Remind me again why we just _had_ to bring your ass along."

"Pleasant conversation and the finest New York experience?" I smirked, swatting at the grip smudging silk. I could all but feel the greasy fingerprints burning through the material. "Since you certainly know how to have a good time on your own..."

"Niko," he started, but the abrupt gag silenced him quicker than any remark I could have made. Being part Auphe and genetically gifted with some of their senses didn't seem particularly fortuitous when stuck underground, the curses he made muffled against the side of his arm. Then again, I was beginning to smell it too, and I was immediately drawn back to the memory of revenants and their...gifted mother. Suddenly grateful for Ish's lack of female reproductive parts, as well as my own, I unsheathed the sword I'd brought along for the occasion. It was almost a requirement when deciding to indulge the Leandros brothers and their pastime.

"I take it we're nearing the end of this little expedition? Good. Ishiah and I have plans."

"Save it, okay? For fuck’s sake-- Why does everything we put down have to smell so damn bad?”

Caliban’s theatrics couldn’t have been staged, considering the way the rotting fish scent was growing increasingly potent, so I took him as seriously as I could without adding further insult to injury. Niko had moved ahead, his own weapon drawn and poised delicately in both hands. I crept up beside him, hesitant to go any further and risk or sacrifice even more of my clothes to the unknown. I was a born lover of the world and all creatures in it, not a fighter, but I could certainly handle my own against something as whimsical as a woman with a sorrowful song and a peculiarly high affection for the aquatic lifestyle. I rolled my eyes at the irony, my skin crawling a little at the thought of actually bedding one. Only then did I realize it was the touch of something abruptly rubbing along the back of my neck and not a physical reaction.

"It's a pity when _I_ have to say this, but keep your hands to yourself,” I muttered, mostly under my breath.

“You think I’d _want_ to touch you? On _purpose_? Get real.”

Caliban’s voice was further to my left than it had been before, Niko's own presence clarified by the quiet cough of indignation following his brother's attempt at sarcasm. Too sardonic, that boy. My fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword reflexively, almost unnerved that something was slithering its way up my back and into my hair. I'd just had it done that morning--poor insight on my behalf, but it had gone a day too long without the proper care already. My hand reached back, brushed scales...

" _Skata_!" Several curses in other languages followed, my body quick to twist around and stumble backward into the wall so that I had the thing between it and myself. A rock and a hard place. Had I time to appreciate my own wit, I might have found it amusing. Time, however, was a bitter man, and a threat to my hair was just as serious as one on my life. “Now is not the time to be standing there and marveling at yours truly. As difficult as it must be...” The writhing mess pinned beneath my shoulder destroyed my concentration the moment it squealed and hissed, crying for a freedom I wouldn’t give it. I withdrew the blade I carried so I could twist it upward, and it slid into surprisingly malleable flesh, warmth soaking my shirt and spreading until my entire backside was covered in fluid. Red, black, or any other color wouldn’t have mattered; blood was difficult to get out regardless. I stabbed it once more for safety’s sake, frowning as it twitched and slid down jagged rocks into a pool of its own insides. Serpentine and glistening. I made no additional comment and moved away.

Niko knelt to examine it as I assessed the damage done to my attire. Little of it was going to be salvageable, and I felt the beginnings of a headache start in my temples as I mentally tallied the money that had been lost.

“A parasite,” he began, glancing in my direction. “But I’ve never read any texts that mentioned any of this. Not even a hint.”

I shrugged. “They’re an anti-social bunch. Who could blame them? It’s not like they’re Adonis, you know. Now _he_ had a lot going for him...until that accident in the woods. Which I had nothing to do with. Just so you’re aware. One too many slips, and you forget who you’re pissing on.”

“Robin,” Caliban groaned, rubbing at his temple with the muzzle of his gun. “Ariel’s enough to deal with. Now we’ve got Flotsam and Jetsam too?”

I could hear the scornful _great_ before it ever left his mouth, but my satisfaction was only momentary at best. The servile little bastards descended upon us in unwavering, wiggling droves, slipping over the uneven ground at a speed unnaturally quick for the composition of their bodies. Gunshots echoed in the enclosed space, accompanied by Caliban’s commentary as he put a bullet in each of them. Niko’s weaponry preference made him much quieter when on the move, and it was easier to focus on slicing the ones trying to wrap themselves around my feet without the added distraction. The pile continued to grow around us until, at last, they were dead, quick to die in the same shrieking fit as the first.

My phone began to ring immediately after--perfectly placed and not welcome. An inconvenience, though the reception was remarkable this far down. Ish sounded rather annoyed when I answered, but I knew that was only peri-speak for concern.

"Where are you?"

"Dancing with the snakes," I answered, stepping over the disemboweled creatures and continuing on with the brothers. Perhaps we were getting even closer; Caliban was gagging again."I'll be back in enough time."

"It's already past five."

"Ten minutes, Ishiah. I promise."

"I know very well how your promises end, Goodfellow." Such was my life; he was truly angry now. "Twenty minutes, or I'm cancelling."

A glare at the screen as the call abruptly ended, and I immediately turned around, waving my sword in the Leandros' general direction over my shoulder. Bidding farewell, goodbye, and any other word that inspired a bit of ill-contempt in them. Favors were favors, but when they began treading over the lines of my _monogamous_ relationship... Caliban might have called me a coward or something his adolescent mind found as equally poetic and clever, but I called it self-preservation. I wouldn't have lived as long, knew as much, or wandered as far had I been the careless, bleeding heart type.

I _wanted_ that evening of fine wine and food and perhaps a bit more.

"Robin." Niko's voice was quiet but firm. I ignored it and walked on. "Wait."

"For fuck's sake, Cyrano." Movement behind me, and Caliban was dragging me back by the collar of my already ruined ensemble. " You can't go back that way, remember? Just deal with it so we can get out of this hellhole already."

That, as it so happened, I had completely forgotten about. One way in, one way out. Instant deathtrap for those lured beneath by the wailing melody, and I had been taken for _that_ fool. I casually pushed Caliban's hand away and straightened my sleeves.

"Ye of little faith." I glanced at the stained sword in hand, considering how heavily the cons were against the pros. “Let’s finish this Hera-loving bitch, or _you_ can explain to Ishiah where I’ve been for the last few hours.”

“...you bastard.”

And proud of it. I smirked at him, ever the tease as I joined Niko. Our path grew narrower and narrower the deeper we ventured, the wide tunnel gradually closing in so there was only enough room to fit in a single file line. Caliban said something about sitting ducks, and no one bothered to acknowledge it. Niko’s patience was as unwavering as St. Aloysius’ chastity belt; no matter the temptation, he couldn’t be swayed from his goals. A human with such strong conviction and morals should not have possessed such nice...assets. I blatantly stared as we shuffled along, no immediate danger or threat to our lives in such a confined space. My hobbies had been reduced to looking but not touching despite Ishiah’s considerably grim unspoken nuances in my direction each time he caught me. Not that I hid it. How could I? It was unnatural to smother such born characteristics.

“Your eyes,” Niko began slowly, back braced against a corner at the end of the pathway, “will lose their ability to see if you don’t look elsewhere.”

My reply was cut short by a rather human cry of pain just beyond the turn in our path that quickly drowned into silence. I wasn't new to the sound of death, recognizing it despite the fact that my attention was still inevitably drawn to Niko's ass. Caliban shoved the barrel of his gun against the back of my neck in a silent effort to show his disapproval. I took it in stride and shrugged it off, leaning in closer to Niko. Listening...and enjoying the peculiar way we were sandwiched together. It brought back the fondest of memories before sentencing myself to one being out of billions.

"I think we can forget about any survivors," he muttered right into my ear, words followed with a sharp intake of breath. “Christ, Goodfellow. You smell like what would happen if one of the Kin took a shit on a revenant after eating some bad tacos or something. Never thought I'd actually _prefer_ all that fancy-smelling crap you wear."

Niko pressed his palm against my mouth to silence whatever I had been about to say. At any other time, I would have found it rather erotic in a kinky sort of way, but I was a changed puck. A one peri show. I tugged at his fingers one by one to remove them, expression a bit sour at the idea of being treated as a child; Caliban had worse tendencies than I. But it was half-hearted at best, aggravation quickly altering to surprise when Niko went completely rigid against me. Still as the stone around us, his katana clattering to the ground and followed by each of its companions he had stashed on his person. An impressive, dangerous assortment. I’d never seen him disarmed so quickly. In fact, I’d _never_ seen him disarmed, and Caliban was hissing at him through clenched teeth in the same moment I made my concern physical. I grasped his wrist. He shoved me hard, my balance shaken and luckily righted by an elbow in the back before I was alone in the small passage--Niko had vanished, and so had his brother.

“This is _not_ what I wanted as a replacement for the date I’m missing.”

As if I had expected something more. It was always a bit of a disappointment to converse with myself, but I crouched to collect the swords after sheathing the one I carried instead. They were much heavier than I expected, though familiar all the same. A weapon was a weapon was a weapon. If it achieved the same purpose, what did it matter what it weighed? Niko’s own rigorous training methods must have attributed to it. Still, I didn’t have time to dwell on the small details. I slipped into the carnage that awaited me around the corner.

Bullets flew ahead, a feminine, high-pitched scream following the few rounds Caliban unloaded into the slender body of a half-submerged siren. It was a paradise, an underground gorge so deep it could have, perhaps, been the ocean. The waters reflected some deep, deep blue that seemed both unholy and unnatural, and the foam slapping against the rocks was reminiscent of waves...minus the thick coat of blood dying it an even darker shade as it washed around Caliban’s feet. He’d slaughtered one rather mercilessly, a point blank shot in the forehead; it would have made his brother proud. As for Niko, he was nowhere in sight, and with my arms full of swords, it made it difficult to focus on much except the way the youngest Leandros looked with red splattered across his face. His clothes were too dark in comparison to his skin, and little of it could be seen on them from where I stood. But it wasn’t my dry cleaning bill to worry about.

“Don’t just stand there,” he shouted, trying to drown out the noise around him. Water fell from a ledge at least thirty feet up. “The other bitches have Niko!”

Ah...

I dropped the entire armory into the shallow pool I had waded into, forgoing the traditional edge in exchange for the one I’d originally used at the start of this travesty. Two versus two. The odds were exceptionally stacked despite the equal number of combatants--neither Caliban nor myself were quite aquatic enough to breathe under water. As easy as it was to _appear_ to walk on water, breathing it in and surviving was an entirely different matter in comparison. It was an endeavor I hadn’t had enough alcohol to attempt. I glared at my reflection and the miserable state of my appearance.

“I will own your ass for the rest of eternity for this.”

“Fine! You can have anything _but_ my ass. It has a strict, no puck policy. Just help me get Niko back, damn it!”

I reminded myself to ask Niko whether or not he’d purposely sat on Caliban’s head at birth; it would have explained a few things. A wave of my hand, and I dismissed the comment, displeased and steadily continuing to grow more so as I stood there. It was eerily quiet, the sound of a gun being reloaded rather loud in the vast cavern we’d stumbled into. Humans were so oblivious to these things.

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know.” He kicked the rolling carcass of the siren he’d disposed of. Repeatedly. “This one played decoy while the others... Shit.” A hand raked through the tangled mess he called hair. “I don’t get it. Niko’d never run off like that. He knows better. _I_ know better than to let him.”

“Sirens, remember?” I sloshed over to him, resigned to my fate of never having nice things when in a Leandros’ company. “They seduced men with their song. As inhuman as he thinks he is, he’s still _human_.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He commenced abusing the body in a childish fashion with each curse, surrendering his efforts after growing tired of it; the distress was written in every part of him. The brothers relied on each other for balance, security. It was a brotherhood I wouldn’t understand, being a puck, and I patted him on the shoulder in an attempt at consoling his inner demons. Standing knee-deep in bloody water should have spoken volumes of my charity and good-will.

“We’ll find him.”

And I turned away to slosh _back_ to solid ground, examining the layout of the place for clues. Any hint as to where Niko would have been taken and held hostage...with or without rope. I smirked, another observation on the tip of my tongue I simply had to share with Caliban, when the ground exploded. Water flew everywhere, a wall of it swelling up to reach the peak of the waterfall above our heads. I’d walked just outside the radius, arms shielding my face from the spray of ice soaking into my skin through my clothes, but Caliban... I didn’t hear or see him.

“ _Sister_... _Sister_...”

Wailing. Plenty of wailing. The sound made Ishiah’s moods entirely bearable considering just how often he was angry with me, and it was an utterly inconvenient time to think of him and the possibility of an actual flaming sword descending so that it could be put to proper use. It vibrated what little of the earth I’d managed to remain standing on, thrumming through my body in counter-rhythm to my pulse. It was like teaching Apollo to sing all over again.

“ _You killed our Sister_...” I winced in a most exaggerated fashion. “ _Die_... _D_... _ie_...”

Surprising enough, death threats were a common occurrence, and being who I was, I’d learned to live with them. Someone was always after something; be it my personable company, charming face, or sex, I was too irresistible for my own good. I took a step back to prepare myself, fingers flexing around the hilt of my blade as I continued to look for any sign beyond that of a certain impending doom. No Caliban, no Niko. Another screech nearly burst an eardrum, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw them. The sirens tangling with Caliban. He raised his gun and had it knocked away before he could pull the trigger. Still, he continued to fight, immediately going for the knife stashed in his jacket. If I could get to him... An arm abruptly slid itself around my neck, too constricting to be loving. I imagined it, at first, to be more of those grotesque snake-fish hybrids, and I reached back to break the contact, tear the thing to pieces. At least, I _tried_ to.

“For the love of... oh, Hades.”

Niko was pressed flushed against me from behind, one arm constricting my throat and the other wrapped around my waist in the obvious beginnings of a chokehold. The light in his eyes was dead, features just as blank; handsome but empty. He’d evidently been brainwashed by Demeter’s whores, and I couldn’t bring myself to stab him. But I _could_ fight him. I shifted my weight into him, dropping the sword as another mini earthquake struck as Caliban slit open the second of the three sisters’ throat, and off balance for only a moment, I grappled with the mindless zombie Niko had become. My foot hooked behind his, elbow digging hard into his chest as I twisted around to face him. The opportunity rather perfect, I couldn’t resist gripping the end of his braid and jerking him forward to press my mouth to his with a grin. There was no response, no open revulsion or want for more. It was like kissing a plastic doll despite the warmth of his lips; I had expected...something else. Or perhaps nothing at all. I drew back and shoved him away with one hard thrust of my hands, practiced footwork lending to my ability to remain upright.

“ _Goodfellow_. You did _not_ just do what I think you did!”

Caliban’s voice echoed in the strange silence that had surrounded us. Had he finished all of them single-handedly? Impressive. From the way his entire right arm, including the knife clenched in his fingers, was soaked in a red so dark it was almost black, I could only assume so. The water, too, had receded into the same quiet lapping as before. My eyes went to Niko rather than gracing Wonder Boy with a valid response. He was on his knees, palms pressed to his ears before he slowly moved, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and up into the loose strands of his blond hair; it was matted and coming out of its braid. The three of us were thoroughly soaked, and I just _knew_ I had managed to lose my cell phone in the onslaught--I felt it safe to think I was going to become rather close with my hand and the sofa when I returned home. A pair of calm gray eyes met mine.

“Robin.” The way Niko slowly spoke my name sent a peculiar shiver of excitement through me. Intimidating and thrilling all at once. “If you so much as _think_ about doing that again, I will kill you.”

I did so love endearing death threats. He was completely serious about it too.

“As I see it, you should be worshipping me _with_ kisses. It’s the least you could do.”

“You didn’t do a damn thing,” Caliban spoke up, giving his brother a look I’d seen enough times to know what it meant. They were probably going to have a conversation at length about whether or not they should ask me on their next hired job. It served them right. I smiled back at him, rather polite and collected for someone who had come close to knocking on Death’s door just seconds ago.

“You owe me.”

I purposely enunciated each word so that he understood the gist of the hint, and his face fell.

“No. _Fuck_ no. I am not...” He wrung more water from his shirt and stomped away from us, cursing the entire way. Niko shook his head, quick to follow, and I laughed at the pair of them.

It was good to have friends. It was good to be alive. I sincerely hoped Ishiah would keep me that way when I explained to him what I’d given up in exchange. I had one excuse, and it was entirely believable to me--accidents happened, and they always would.


End file.
